


Robbers

by denial_four



Category: Bandom, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: AU, F/M, Implied Smut, Robbers AU, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, robbers, the 1975, trans!tyler, transgirl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 04:46:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8830954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/denial_four/pseuds/denial_four
Summary: Two lines of cocaine and a bottle of gin later, Tyler was writhing underneath Josh, giggles escaping her red-stained lips, squeals making a disoriented Josh laugh at her, then press more open-mouthed kisses along her chest and thighs. She opened her blown out eyes to the ceiling and let her mouth part to murmur a single word.“More.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> uhhh this is for Josh.

Tyler watched Josh as the curls of greying cigarette smoke left his pretty pink lips. She breathed out slowly in the cold of the beat up motel room, pulling the musty blanket up around her hips and reaching out to touch his shoulder. Josh looked over at her. Josh watched her face. Tyler smiled and leaned over to kiss him.

Her fingers traced through his hair as he sighed happily, making the only sound Tyler thought she’d ever need. “I love you.” She heard him say, and the smile grew on her face as she cupped his cheeks with both her hands.

“I love you too.”

 

Josh walked with Tyler along the barren beach, her feet tracing a piece of destroyed pier, wind throwing her curled hair across her head and making her face look brighter than Josh had ever seen it before. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Even if she didn’t think so.

He blew a puff of smoke out of his mouth, breathing around the cigarette resting between his lips. He watched as she stopped walking, turning to him and leaning over to pluck the cigarette from him and breathe it into her own lungs. He pouted. She giggled. He tipped his chin up and pressed a slow kiss against her cheek, the sand blowing into his legs and hitting them like tiny shards of glass.

 

Josh pressed his lips across her collarbones, murmuring tiny praises and working his hands across her skin- carefully. Josh had sex as carefully as he did everything else, because he was Josh. And Tyler wouldn’t have it any other way, because as Josh’s adoring whispers crossed her shoulders and fell into her ears, she moaned out his name, and Tyler felt like a whole person, at least for a while.

 

She didn’t always feel that way.

Josh came up behind Tyler and hugged around her waist as she adjusted her bra, sighing at how she saw herself in the mirror. He pressed chaste kisses against her shoulders and the back of her neck, his breath smelling like Jack Daniel’s and smoke. Tyler closed her eyes and rested her hands over his, his worn fingertips rubbing against her bare stomach and helping the rest of the stressed air to leave her lungs.

“C’mon back to bed, baby, what’s the matter?”

Tyler opened her wide doe eyes again and looked at her face in the mirror, Josh looking up at their reflection too as he rested his chin against her shoulder and waited.

“I ain’t got no hips, J, don’t look right.” She sighed, looking away from him. “Look like a boy.”

Josh tightened his arms around her and spun her around to face him. “No, look here, Ty, you look a’me.” He pressed two fingers up under Tyler’s chin to make her look at him, and locked their eyes together before continuing. “Ya caint think like tha’, babe, you don’t look like no boy, you’re th’ finest woman I e’er seen, you don’t say those things, you don’t say nothin’ o’ the sort.”

Tyler looked up at Josh, eyes welling up with tears threatening to spill over. He wiped them away with hi careful touch.

“I reckon I know wha’ll make ya feel better.”

 

Two lines of cocaine and a bottle of gin later, Tyler was writhing underneath Josh, giggles escaping her red-stained lips, squeals making a disoriented Josh laugh at her, then press more open-mouthed kisses along her chest and thighs. She opened her blown out eyes to the ceiling and let her mouth part to murmur a single word.

“More.”

 

The first gun Josh had ever brought home was a black handgun, and the first shot he ever fired was on a Saturday.

“More,” Tyler had said, and Josh had found her more.

He gripped her waist as they moved away from a friend’s van, California desert swirling around them in a barren whirlwind. They pulled their bandanas over their faces, hiding their features as they turned their greedy gazes to the gas station. More money, more drugs, more alcohol. Surgeries for Tyler.

But this was the outskirts, and in the outskirts, nobody was invincible. And as Josh fired his shot, so did somebody else.

 

Back in the van, Tyler sobbed over Josh, who was screaming.

She didn’t want this. When she said ‘more,’ she didn’t mean this. She didn’t want Josh, of _all_ people, to get _hurt_.

They were driving, they were driving away as fast as they could, because they didn’t want to get caught. And their friends were yelling, and Tyler was only trying to stop the tears dripping off of her face onto Josh’s chest as she packed her bandana into his wound.

“I’m sorry, ’m sorry, ’m s’sorry,” She repeated over and over, his blood seeping through her fingers as he took rattling breaths and shook his head, eyes starting to leak. “I’ll fix this, ’ll fix you.”

But his blood was coming too fast, and when the boys carried him back into their stuffy, tiny, messy kitchen and moved him up onto the table, the bandana came off of his side, letting liquid flow free and spill down his leg.

And Tyler was _crying_ , and she couldn’t do anything else, because Josh was _dying_ , and he was _suffering_ , and she needed to _fix him_.

He grabbed at her wrists as his back arched and he started to curl in on himself again. She ripped out of his hands and pushed him back down onto the counter, looking at him with a new intensity, lowering her voice as it shook and locking their eyes together, blown pupils on greying sheen.

“I am going to fix you. I’m _not_ letting you go from me.”

Josh’s breath shook even more as he struggled to reply to her. Blood spurted from the back of his throat with his words.

“Le’mmie go, Ty.”

His eyes went duller. Tyler screamed. A friend ripped her away and they pressed fists against his chest, yelling for a heartbeat, yelling for anything. Someone fished out the bullet. Someone stitched him back together.

Josh stayed on the counter.

 

Three months later and Tyler was watching a pink sun set over mountains. She sighed. She lifted a cigarette from her lips and watched the greying smoke curl out into the evening air.

“Cheers, babe.” She murmured, snuffing out her cigarette, standing, and letting her feet trace the broken edge of the pier.

She touched the bandana tied around her neck, turning from the pier and walking over to her truck. She got in, threw her cigarette out of the window, and she drove as far a distance away as she possibly could.


End file.
